


Prodigal Brat

by rosesofred



Series: Prodigal Brat [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Domestic Discipline, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual, OTK, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking, Temper Tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesofred/pseuds/rosesofred
Summary: Malcolm just needs some guidance and Gil is going to provide it whether he likes it or not. Contains spanking, you've been warned.
Series: Prodigal Brat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566229
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show, I feel like Malcolm really needs a spanking and who better to deliver than his adopted dad Gil? Might be a bit oc, its like 2 in the morning and inspiration struck so why not write a fic. Enjoy and please comment if you liked it!

Malcolm was always pushing the line, testing his boundaries. For the most part, Gil felt he was able to keep him safe, keep him alive. So what was he supposed to do when his surrogate son pushed the boundaries too far? It had been going on for awhile, Malcolm was dancing the line, but today he had just gone too far. Enough was enough. Gil stared down at him, his disappointment and worry clear. From this angle, Bright looked like nothing more than a scared little boy, his hands folded in his lap, big pouty eyes filled with curiosity. “What did I do wrong?”

Aroyo sighed, unsure of how to approach this. Was he right to lecture him about this? He thought back to when Malcolm had been a kid and remembered the few times he’d put him over his knee for various offenses. But he was too old now to be punished that way again, wasn’t he? He’d been thinking about it on his way over, and to be honest it was seeming more like a possibility the longer he tried to lecture the boy. “You almost got yourself killed for starters.” He put his hands on his hips, trying his best to seem intimidating. This lecture wouldn’t work if he didn’t come across as authoritative. 

Bright lowered his head, lost for words. How could he lie himself out of this? It had been plainly obvious when they’d entered the room that he’d been just about to die, moments away from being killed. “I knew you guys were coming. I knew he-”

“Don’t lie to me, kid.” His voice was booming, anger rising at the man’s obvious lie. “You knew he might kill you and you took that chance anyways. Its time you stop playing Russian Roulette with your own life. Do you understand me?”

“Its my life,” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” It was quickly becoming clear that the boy wasn’t going to listen to him and Gil’s worry grew the longer they talked. “You got a death wish?”

Malcolm stood up now, throwing away his facade of innocent boy and instead adopting a more commanding posture. “Maybe I do, what do you care? It’s my own life, not yours!”

Frowning now, Aroyo clenched his jaw in frustration. “I care because you’re like a son to me.”

“You’re not my father,” Malcom bit out. He folded his arms now, defiance clear on his face.

“Excuse me? Who took care of you when you were a kid, when your own father was gone? I’ve looked out for you since you were a child and like it or not, I consider you my own.” Making up his mind now, Gil grabbed the man by his upper arm, taking him off guard. “If you want to learn your lesson the hard way, fine by me.”

“What are you-” he didn’t have enough time to protest before the older man sat down on the couch, pulling the boy with him to land over his lap. Taking his surprise for granted, he quickly locked his legs in between his own, wrapping his arm around the man’s waist to keep him in place. “NO!” His voice was loud and desperate, fear beginning to grow as realization kicked in. “Gil I’m too old! You can’t spank a grown man!”

“I can when he acts like an out of control child.” He landed the first smack, the sound echoing in the large loft. Malcolm sucked in a panicked breath, scrambling to gain control back. He threw his arm back, trying in vain to stop the punishment from happening.

“I don’t think so, kid.” He grabbed his hand easily, pinning it against the man’s back. Starting up a steady rhythm, Gil rained down swat after swat onto his struggling backside. “When are you going to learn that people care about you?”

“I don’t want a lecture!” 

“That’s fine with me,” Gil agreed. He hadn’t been expecting so much resistance but he was willing to do whatever it took to get through to his son, even if he had to give him the hardest spanking he’d ever delivered. He spanked him in silence for a while, the only sounds being Malcolm’s occasional grunts and whimpers that slipped out. It bothered Gil a bit that the punishment didn’t seem to be having an effect on the boy, so he decided to step up his game. “Get up,” he grunted, releasing him from his hold.

It took a moment before Malcolm turned to look back at him over his shoulder, curiosity etched across his features. Silently, he rose to a standing position, his movements wary and unsure. “I told you I’m too old for-” he gasped when Gil’s hands reached for his pants, backing up and hitting the coffee table in shock. “No! Gil, no you can’t!” His boss stood now, taking one quick stride to the man and grabbing him by his arm again. Waving a finger in his face, he said in a stern tone, “I can and I will Malcolm. Now hold still.” He reached for his belt again but the younger man practically bucked his body, flinging himself away from his mentor. He broke out of his hold and in a moment of shock, they both stared at each other. A moment later Malcolm sprinted away, desperate to get away.

He ran to his bed, the lieutenant quickly walking behind him, his demeanor frighteningly calm. Taking refuge behind his bed, Malcolm put his hands up warily. 

“You can’t do this, can’t we talk about it?”

Walking towards him at an alarming rate, Gil’s tone was clear and stern. “Oh we will. But you’re going to be over my knee for that discussion.”

Panicking even more now, Malcolm jumped onto his bed, rolling to get away and landing on the other side with a thud. If he’d been even just one second faster he could’ve gotten away but sleep deprivation made him slower than normal and his body ached with exhaustion. Using the opportunity, Gil hauled Malcolm up onto the bed, pinning him on his back and making quick work of his belt. He unzipped his pants as the younger man kicked and struggled, pulling them down to his knees.

Bright blushed furiously now, having never been spanked on less than his pants. Flipping him over, Gil sat down on the bed and pulled the exhausted man over his knee again, his torso resting on the bed. “Unless you want this bare, you’d better start talking now.” Blushing again, Malcolm tried to push away from him, finding in frustration that he was truly pinned in place. 

“And say what? You’re going to spank me anyways.” Bitterness seeped out of his words as he spoke, clearly angry with his current predicament.

“True, but the severity of this depends on how you behave. So are you going to talk?”

Malcolm bit his lip, unsure of what to say. When he felt a hand on the waistband of his boxers he kicked his legs in fear and struggled twice as hard. “Wait! Wait I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”

Gil landed a hard blow to his backside, picking up a quick rhythm once again. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Can’t we talk without you hitting me?”

“I’m not hitting you, I’m spanking you. You know the difference. You also know better than to play games with killers, don’t you?”

When all he got in return was silence, Gil sighed and quickly pulled the boy’s underwear down, knowing he would get a fight if he wasn’t fast. “NO! No no no no no- Gil, please!” He tried to reach back and grabbed onto his underwear but Gil caught his hand, pinning it against his back. 

“You need to learn to listen, Malcolm. I have no problems making sure you learn that lesson, even if we have to do this all night. Do you know why that is?”

Malcolm shook his head until he felt a hard slap on his sit spot and yelped. “No! I don’t!”

Continuing in rhythm on the center of his backside, Gil responded, “Because I care about you. You’re like a son to me, and yes I know I’m not your father but I love you like you were my own. And no son of mine is going to risk his life like that. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes I understand! Just please stop!” 

Gil sighed softly and began raining down swats on the boy’s sit spots in response. “You don’t decide when this is over, I do.” 

Grunting angrily, Malcolm used his arms to push himself up, still effectively trapped under the man’s arm. He twisted back and forth, kicking his legs and bucking his body like a trapped wild animal. Aroyo pushed him back down easily, holding on tightly and applying more pressure to keep him in place. “You done with your tantrum yet?” He moved the swats back to the center of his backside but continued landing blows, determined to see this through.

Bright frowned and looked back at him over his shoulder angrily. “I’m not throwing a tantrum, I”m trying to get away!”

Still landing swat after swat, Gil added nonchalantly, “And how’s that working for you?”

Scowling at him now, Malcolm turned away, burying his head in the blanket on his bed, using his free arm to hide his face. He mumbled something insulting, too quiet for Gil to hear. The spanking went on for another minute before his mentor pulled him into a more forward position on his knee, his backside now at a better angle to hit. He began landing slaps down on his sit spots again, swallowing hard when he heard a muffled scream from the pouting consultant. His legs started to kick again in a fit of anger but Gil wasn’t concerned about it. He was more concerned with the shade of his son’s backside and the fact that he wasn’t opening up.

“You going to talk now or do I need to make this worse?” He felt Malcolm shift, no doubt considering his options but the boy stayed silent. “Fine, I really didn’t want to do this. But if that’s what it takes,” he trailed off, leaving the man to wonder what he meant. He grabbed Malcolm’s belt from his pants, folding it over in his hand and resting it against his backside. Feeling the cool leather against his skin, Bright’s eyes flew open wide and he struggled so hard Gil had to hold him in place with both arms.

“No, no please!” he cried out, desperate to get away from the belt. “Not the belt, please don’t use my belt!”

“Are you going to talk to me now?”

“Yes, yes please!” Malcolm felt tears prick at his eyes and sniffled as he still frantically tried to get away. 

Landing a hard blow with his hand, Gil heard the boy gasp in shock but the struggling stopped. “Calm down, Malcolm. I’m not going to use the belt on you if you talk to me.” He dropped it to the floor, not wishing to make his son any more panicked than he already was. Using his hand now, he began raining down blows once again to the backside over his knee, ignoring the man’s grunts of pain. 

“I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for?”

Groaning in frustration, Malcolm used his free hand to grab the back of Aroyo’s jacket, clenching the fabric in his fist. “I don’t know, just stop it!”

“Not until you learn your lesson. You can protest all you like, struggle if you need to, but I’m not stopping until I know damn well that you’re not going to kill yourself out there.”

“Ok, I won’t, I’ll stop being reckless! Ow!” he bit his lip, mad at himself for showing that it hurt. He wanted to be strong, take his punishment like a man but he felt like a little kid again, back over his adopted father’s knee for a spanking. 

“You promise?”

Malcolm was silent again. He didn’t want to promise something he knew he wouldn’t do. He couldn’t just outright lie to his mentor, it felt wrong.

“That’s what I thought.” He landed the hardest blows yet, peppering them all over the boy’s backside which was now growing into a deep shade of red.

“I’m sorry, I really am!” He kicked his legs out again, stamping them against the floor in a fit of anger, an angry yelp escaping his lips. Another long minute passed before Gil felt the boy slump down, his shoulders sulking in defeat. “I’m sorry for being reckless and not being more careful.”

“That’s good,” Gil stopped for a moment, rubbing his hand on the man’s back. He let go of his hand, making Malcolm think it was over. The consultant pushed up again, only to be firmly put back in place instantly. “I don’t think so, it's not over yet.” He began swatting again, this time harder.

“Why!” He whined, twisting his body in defiance. He slammed his fist down on the bed, anger clear in his movements. 

“Because you’re still acting like a defiant child. If we have to split your punishment up into two nights I have no problem with it. I can come back tomorrow night and we can do this all over again.”

“Nooo,” Malcolm cried, burying his face in the sheets again. 

“Then I suggest you tell me what else you’re sorry for.” Hearing a muffled curse in the blanket, Aroyo rolled his eyes. “You want a bedtime spanking every night this week?” Malcolm froze now, fear coursing through him. That sounded beyond awful, he didn’t think he’d survive that!

“Please don’t, I’m sorry!” Biting his lip, Malcolm lifted his head in worry. “I’m sorry for being reckless. And I’m sorry for…” he wiggled his hips, unconsciously trying to get away from the hand that was raining blows down on his sore posterior. Grunting, he threw his head back down. “I don’t know!” 

Gil landed 20 swats to his sit spots so fast he had the consultant writhing under him, desperate to get away. “You should’ve come to me if you were feeling like that. You can always talk to me about this kind of thing, you know you can. I care about you too much to lose you.”

“Ok, ok! Please stop, please,’ he begged.

“I don’t think so, not yet.” He landed hard swats all in the same spot until he had Malcolm howling in pain, twisting his body back and forth. “Can you tell me why you’re getting this spanking?”

“Can’t you stop? I can’t think!”

“You’re going to answer me right now, Malcolm. Or we can continue this until you do answer me.” Switching to a new spot, he repeated the pattern on hitting the same area until it was unbearable for the man.

Feeling tears run down his cheeks, Bright wiped at his eyes furiously, angry with himself for crying. “Because I- ow! - was reckless, and, please, this hurts!”

“It’s supposed to, Malcolm.” He switched to a new spot now, doing the same as before.

“I didn’t tell you!”

“Good, I’m so proud of you.” he continued to spank him, his backside now a deep shade of red, handprints clearly visible in certain areas. “And why is that not ok?”

Throwing his whole body back, Malcolm exploded in rage. “Stop, stop stop! Now!” He cried in pain, the tears coming fully now. Gil sighed heavily and shook his head, sadness clear in his eyes. It didn’t feel right to continue spanking the boy, even if they were so close to the end. He didn’t want to seriously injure him or really leave a mark, he just couldn’t do that to his son. 

“Fine,” he agreed. He rubbed his hand over the abused skin, relieving the sting from the boy’s backside.

Out of breath and filled with defiance and rage, Malcolm was glad he finally won. He panted hard, still upset but calming down fast. “Let me up,” he said with a hint of rebellious attitude. 

Gil released his hold, though he kept a hand firmly in place on the boy’s arm. Malcolm dropped to his knees in between the older man’s legs and gingerly pulled his pants back up, redoing his belt as he glared at his mentor. “Don’t give me that look, Malcolm. You’re still in trouble.”

His eyes going wide, Bright shouted out a confused, “What?!” before getting to his feet.

“Don’t think we’re done here, I’m coming back tomorrow night and we get to have this discussion all over again.

Tears spilled over again, his throat feeling tight at the realization that he wasn’t through with the spanking. Giving his best puppy dog eyes, Malcolm pouted like a sulking child. “That’s not fair, Gil, that’s not-” he choked on a sob, but Gil was quick to stand up and wrap him in a warm hug.

“Hey, its ok. You’ll be ok.”

“Not fair,” Malcolm choked out. 

“I know its not, kid.” They stayed that way for a long while before Gil held him at arm’s length, looking him over. “But you’re going to learn this lesson, however hard it may be. I’m not losing you.” Seeing the sad expression on the boy’s face, Aroyo decided it was time to end the night. “Alright, let’s get you to bed. You look exhausted.”

“Not tired,” Bright whined. In a moment too fast for the man to comprehend, he felt himself twisted to the side, a hard smack landing on his backside. He yelped in pain, the tears falling once more out of his control. “Ok, ok I’m sorry!”

“That’s more like it,” Gil smiled. He loved his son but Jesus was he a brat sometimes.


	2. Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil comes back as promised to finish Malcolm's punishment. Also again, sorry if this is awful, wrote it at 5 in the morning with no sleep and lots of coffee. Fueled only by a love for this show and the weird energy one aquires with enough sleep deprivation.

To say the day had been rough for our lovable consultant would be an understatement. All day the only thing Malcolm’s mind could focus on was Gil’s promise to return that night and finish his punishment. While a trip over his mentor’s knee sounded god awful and embarrassing, what he dreaded most was the fact that Aroyo was still mad at him. He just wanted to avoid the whole situation the best he could, and if that meant running away like a scared child, then so be it. It was late now, the streets were once again dark and dangerous but he didn’t care. He’d rather face the outside world and the possibility of getting mugged than have his backside warmed again. Rubbing his cold hands together, he stopped a moment to look around, gather his surroundings. He was far away from his loft now, but still too close for comfort.

His hands were shaking again, from either fear or the cold he didn’t know, and he clenched them into fists. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down. He could stay out all night if he had too. Wandering around for another twenty minutes, Malcolm ended up on the same street as his apartment and his breath caught in his throat. How had he ended up back here? He looked around warily, his step cautious and untrusting. He didn’t see any signs of Gil, but he didn’t trust it, something wasn’t right. “I was wondering when you’d come back.” Jumping out of his skin, Malcolm spun around to see his mentor standing there, disapproval written clearly across his features.

“No, this isn’t happening, Gil-” he backed up fast, his hands going up in defense. Turning to sprint away, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him from escaping.

“I don’t think so kid, this is happening whether you like it or not.” Malcolm struggled, breaking away and fighting his captor in a panic. “Stop struggling, Malcolm.” 

“No, get away from me!” He sprinted away, his feet quickly taking him away from danger. Feeling the adrenaline pump in his chest, Malcolm slowed down as he approached a corner. Was he back at his apartment? How did he end up back here? Exhaustion was playing games with him, that had to be it. He turned the corner, jolting to a stop when he saw Gil standing there, angry and determined to catch his target. In one swift move, Aroyo had him thrown over his shoulder, a strong arm clasped over his kicking legs as the boy struggled hard to get away. “Please no, Gil, let me down! This is so embarrassing!”

Turning and making his way back to the loft, his mentor only shook his head in disapproval. “Should’ve listened to me, kid.”

“No!” Bright threw his body but it made no difference, his mentor had him firmly trapped. In one impulsive move, Malcolm threw his fists against the man’s back, regretting it immediately. He didn’t actually want to hurt the man, he just wanted to get away.

“Malcolm!” Gil slapped his backside, the sound echoing across the street. “Do I have to put you over my knee right here and now? Or can you stop throwing a tantrum long enough to get to your apartment?” Approaching the door to his loft, Gil began unlocking it with the key the boy’s mother had given him.

His heart stopping in his chest, Malcolm slumped across his mentor’s shoulder, his head lowering in shame. “No,” he whispered, too quiet for anyone besides the lieutenant to hear.

“Good,” Gil agreed. Getting inside, he made his way quickly upstairs where he slammed the door shut and locked it, assuring the kid wasn’t going to just run right out the door. Moving to the bed, Gil lowered the boy from his shoulder, holding on tightly to either side of his arms to keep him from struggling. “Now, can you tell me why-” Malcolm yanked back, trying in vain to escape before Gil shook him lightly. “Stop that!”

“Gil please, I already learned my lesson, this isn’t necessary,” his words were jumbled together, quickly spilling out in a desperate attempt to escape his fate. Feeling the older man pulling him forward, Malcolm quickly spat out, “Wait can’t we talk about this?!” his feet skid across the floor, heels digging in to stop it from happening.

“We did, Malcolm. And you made it perfectly clear you weren’t interested in talking.” Grabbing Bright by his belt, he pulled him forward and began undoing it. Malcolm’s hands shot down to his pants, trying in vain to shove the other man’s hands away. “Do I need to make this worse?” Gil gave him a stern look, pausing in his attempt to undo the boy’s pants. Malcolm shook his head, eyes wide with trepidation. He kept his hands at his belt but allowed the man to undo it. Gil nodded in approval, glad his son was finally taking this punishment seriously. Unzipping his black slacks, Aroyo lowered them to his knees and grabbed the consultant’s arm, throwing him off balance and guiding his fall so he landed on his left knee. “Comfortable?”

Malcolm’s face burned with embarrassment and he bit his tongue, trying not to retort something sarcastic like he so desperately wanted to. Taking the boy’s silence as acceptance, Gil landed the first smack on his upturned rear, drawing out a startled yelp. “Please,” Malcolm tried once more.

“I don’t think so, kid. You’ve earned this.” He smacked him again, causing Bright to shift his hips, the burning ache returning with this fresh new hell. He made quick work of landing blows all over the boys backside, falling into a steady rhythm. The silence stretched on through the punishment, the only sounds being Malcolm’s muffled cries and yelps. He was trying so hard not to show that it hurt but Malcolm was losing his composure fast. 

Getting a spanking on top of already sore and punished skin felt like sitting on hot coals and it was hard not to fight it. His struggles started out small, until eventually he was bucking his hips, pushing against his mentor to escape. Nothing he did made any difference and he was beginning to panic at the thought that this punishment wasn’t going to end anytime soon. “Gi-il,” he whined, his voice catching in his throat.

“What are you sorry for?”

Malcolm let out a frustrated grunt, throwing his hands back to cover his backside. “I don’t want to do this again! Stop!”

“We’re going to be here all night if you keep up that attitude, son.” Gil quickly caught his hands, holding both wrists at the small of his back easily.

Kicking his legs as hard as he could and stomping them on the floor, Bright shouted “I don’t have an attitude!”

“Alright well feel free to speak up when you’re done throwing a fit.”

“Fuck, I’m not- fuck you!” His struggling continued but he was losing hope and becoming desperate at the thought that nothing he did was working.

Pushing Malcolm forward on his knee, Gil grabbed his underwear and tore them down to join his pants at his knees. A blush exploded across the consultant’s face, grunting with anger at his vulnerability. Rubbing a soothing hand across the red skin, Aroyo took in the damage to gage how far he should go. “You know I care about you but your attitude recently has been horrible, Bright. Do you want to try again or should I keep spanking you until you do?”

The reprieve in punishment made the boy glad and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders slumping. Biting his lip, Malcolm knew he should start answering the man’s questions if he wanted it to end but somewhere inside he was still so angry and defiant. He didn’t want to give control to his mentor, he wanted to fight him every second of the way. “I- I was reckless.”

“And?” Gil patted his backside in warning, making Malcolm’s muscles tense all over. 

“I didn’t talk to you?”

“Good.” Gil smacked his backside again, raining down slaps to the red blotchy skin. 

“No, I answered you!” Malcolm struggled again, shoving his upper body against the man’s arm and trying to throw himself off his mentor’s knee.

“You did, and I’m proud of you for that. But this is still a punishment.” Giving him another five hard slaps in the same spot, Gil stopped again, resting his hand against the boy’s thigh in warning. “Do you understand why you’re getting this punishment?”

“Yes!” Malcolm arched his back, sweat building on his forehead. “Reckless, not talking.”

Gil landed five more hard swats to the boy’s sit spots and felt his muscles tense with each blow. “Now why is that wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Gil began slapping again, the smacks landing randomly but covering his entire backside. “It’s wrong because I care about you and you can’t go risking your life like a rebellious teenager. You’re important, you’re part of the team. And I won’t hesitate to put you back over my knee if you need a reminder. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Gil, please!” the lieutenant stopped again, rubbing a hand on the boy’s back. Sighing, Malcolm rested his head on the blanket. “I’m sorry, Gil.”

“That’s good to hear. But I’m serious, I will spank you every time you need this.”

“That’s not fair!” Malcolm twisted his body to look up at his mentor, his big puppy dog eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t give me that look, you know it is.” Gil waved a finger in his face, expression stern and commanding. “Now as for running away,” and his hand came down again. Yelping in surprise, Malcolm clenched his hands into fists and struggled against the hold again. “That was a stupid thing to do, when I punish you I expect you to accept it.” Giving only silence in return, Malcolm bit the inside of his lip to keep from blurting out something sassy.

“No!” he shouted, groaning as he wiggled his hips.

“No? You don’t agree?”

Malcolm shook his head, trying in vain to escape the hand landing blow after blow to his horribly sore posterior. “It’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, kid. But I still expect you to take it and learn from it. Do I make myself clear?” Silence again and Gil shook his head. “You want to be here all night?” 

Panicking, Malcolm shot out a quick no and his body began curling up in anxiety. His back was arching in such a way that if Gil didn’t have him pinned, the boy would be stretched out like a frightened cat.

Stopping again, Gil patted his backside. “Now can you behave the rest of the night and not get yourself killed?”

Nodding, Malcolm swallowed hard. “Yes, let me up!”

Smirking at the boy’s attitude, even after having just been chastised, Gil released his hold on him. He pulled the boy’s underwear and pants back up for him, rubbing his back reassuringly. Malcolm pushed himself up off his mentor’s lap, wiping furiously at his still wet eyes. “Come here, kid.” Gil grabbed his arm, yanking him down to sit on his lap. When the consultant's backside made contact with his sturdy thigh, tears pricked at his eyes again, spilling over quickly before he could stop them.

“Ouch,” the boy whined. Gil pulled him in for a hug now, smiling at how small and childlike his son was after a spanking. If only he could keep him here forever, safe in his arms where no killers could attack him and take advantage of his clearly suffering son. He’d do whatever it took to keep him safe, even if he had to spank him every day. Because as much as Gil hated punishing the poor boy, he hated the idea of losing him much more.


End file.
